Super Kids at Christmas
by Wahoogal06
Summary: Based off the AU in AmeliaFaulks' "The Long Way Home", this story explores what transpires at the Kent farm around Christmas-time. Humorous one shot for the holiday season.


**A/N:** This is a silly little one-shot I wrote after being inspired by AmeliaFaulks' piece, "The Long Way Home". If you haven't read it yet then I highly recommend that you check it out, it is an amazing piece of Superman fiction. I borrowed the family she created (with her permission of course), so it is also worth reading just to understand what alternative universe I'm coming from. With that said, I hope you take a moment to sit back, relax, and enjoy this little tale.

* * *

**Christmas Eve, 2011**. Her hearing wasn't what it used to be, but she thought she caught the distinct thud of her son's feet as they landed on the back porch by the door. As she opened it wide, she took in the wintry spectacle before her; Clark, dressed as Superman, stood on the threshold with a son in each arm. Christopher, Clark and Lois' four year old, was on his left, and had the red in his cheeks and the glow in his eye of someone who never tired of free flight—just like his Mother. Jason, their ten year old, had the same red cheeks, but the thrill of flight was replaced by a scowl. Martha had caught them in mid-argument. 

"But Dad I HATE being held like a baby all the time! When will I be able to fly on my own, like you?!"

Clark gave a small sigh as he looked down at his eldest, running a hand through Jason's dark brown hair, "Son, if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times. Your powers will come when and _IF_ they come, and you're not to rush them. Besides, I don't think your Mother is too keen to see you flying around unsupervised in the near future."

He turned from his father, exasperated, and folded his arms in front of his chest. Little Christopher, un-phased by the exchange, squirmed in his Father's strong grip and called out "Grandma, Grandma!"; he wasn't satisfied until he was transferred from one set of hands to another and showered in kisses. Martha was happy to oblige.

"Oh my boys!" she cried as she promptly kissed the chubby little cheek offered to her. Clark bent over and gave her a kiss as well, one that she returned before bending down to Jason who was still sulking on the porch.

"Hi Grandma," he said in a frustrated voice, his arms still crossed.

"Hi yourself," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "I think I know the cure for these blues. Who wants to help me decorate some freshly baked sugar cookies?!" Martha winked at him conspiratorially. Jason, she knew, oftentimes acted like a miniature adult, but the prospect of cookies immediately disarmed him and she saw the child once more. Christopher too now squirmed in her hands, anxious to get to the promised treats. She placed him down next to his brother and the two boys raced into the house, leaving a trail of coats, mittens and boots in their wake.

"Aren't you coming in Clark?"

"Not yet, I have to grab the luggage and then go pick up Lois. She's finishing up a few things at the Planet and then we'll head over. We have to take it slow, because, you know…" he blushed as he trailed off. Not that he wasn't thrilled about his and Lois' impending new addition to the family, but the Midwestern farm boy in him never grew accustomed to talking openly about…that. Martha nodded, knowing full-well that at seven months along Lois shouldn't be flying at lightning speeds. "Take all the time you need."

Clark, still standing on the porch, called out to his children. "You boys behave yourselves and listen to Grandma, ok?"

"Ok!!!" came an older, slightly exasperated, voice.

"Yes Daddy!" cried a younger one, all eager to please.

He smiled at his Mom before turning around and darting out into the distance.

Martha watched until Clark turned into a little red and blue speck on the horizon before closing the door and letting the warmth of the kitchen envelope her. She scooped up the winter clothing her grandsons' had shed and arrived in the dining room in time to see Christopher stuff the last of a green frosted Christmas tree into his mouth, the evidence of which he clearly wore on his face.

"Hi Gwamma," he said almost-guiltily.

She bent down next to his chair and looked him straight in the eye, "Did you already eat one of the cookies Christopher?"

"No…" he said, his cheeks flaring up as red as his father's cape, while his eyes darted down to the floorboards.

Jason, who had been sitting on the opposite side of the table putting some finishing touches on a snowman, blurted out "Yes he did Grandma! He did, I saw him! And he put a lot of frosting on it too! He put on THIS MUCH!" His hands formed a circle the size of a small dinner plate. The little boy looked like he was about to cry.

"Well now, that's alright…what's a Grandma for if she can't spoil her grandkids?" she replied, placing another cookie in front of Christopher before reaching for one to decorate herself. Chris' face lit up and he gave her a smile with teeth ringed with green. Martha chuckled at him. "You sneaky little Monster," she said, gently pinching his smiling chubby cheek.

8888

An hour later and the trio sat on the sofa in the living room, watching "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" on TV. Clark had dropped their bags off fifteen minutes before and informed them he'd be back shortly with Lois. Martha stole a look about the room, admiring the scene; had someone asked her five years ago if she could picture spending a Christmas in this old house, with a grandson under each arm, she would have sighed and lamented that that was not to be. Now she stared down at her boys' childish faces, made all the more angelic by the soft lights of the Christmas tree. Presents for the Kent clan were stacked high under the small decorated fir and Shelby meandered over and sniffed at a bone-shaped package before circling and settling on her mat in front of the barren fireplace. She glanced over at the clock on the mantle and realized she had forgotten all about the turkey in the oven.

"Did you boys remember to save some room for dinner tonight? Because if you didn't your parents will have my head."

"What are we having?" Jason asked, poking his head around the sofa as Martha made her way toward the kitchen.

"Turkey, homemade biscuits, gravy, stuffing, carrots, potatoes…"

"I have room! In fact, I'm so hungry, I think I could have five helpings!"

"Yeah! Me too!" chimed in little Christopher

"Ok, just don't super-gulp all that food down like your Father does, it's not healthy. You wouldn't want to have tummy aches on Christmas morning…" she replied with a laugh as she rounded the corner.

The commercials on TV seemed to last an extremely long time and Jason diverted his gaze to the pile of presents under the tree. In mentioning his father, Martha had inadvertently reminded him about the fight they'd had on the back porch an hour before. Jason was still miffed at the fact that he hadn't yet been endowed with the power of flight and he felt that somewhere, somehow, his Dad was responsible. As his ten year old brain pondered over this gross injustice, his frustration accidentally triggered his x-ray vision, and he saw through the layer of wrapping paper and the cardboard box and realized the package before him contained a homemade baby blanket. Re-focusing his eyes he saw that the tag said "To Lois, from Martha".

The x-ray vision wasn't new to Jason—he'd discovered it a year before and his Dad had helped him to master it—but what was new was that he had never thought to use it in this fashion before. He always liked being surprised by the presents he received on his birthday and Christmas; he _loved_ tearing away the paper, throwing off the box cover and ooh-ing and ahh-ing over what was inside. But the discovery at that moment, that he could know not only what he was getting for Christmas that year but _what everyone else was getting_, struck a very malicious chord in him.

He concentrated on the brightly colored packages a moment longer before turning to his brother. "Hey Chris."

"What?" asked the little boy, not looking away from the movie that had resumed playing on the TV.

"Want to know what Grandma got Dad for Christmas?" he asked, a sneer forming on his lip.

The little boy looked at his older brother on the end of the couch, his mouth open in a wide O of shock. "N…n-no," he finally stammered.

Chris watched as his brother ignored him and turned to the tree in the corner, squinting his eyes the way their Father did when he wanted to see who was at the front door without getting up to open it.

"She got him a blue flannel shirt," Jason proclaimed triumphantly.

"Jason stop it!" his brother pleaded.

"And Mom is getting a blanket for the new baby…"

"Stop it!"

"And you're getting…"

"No, I don't wanna know, I don't wanna know! Stop it Jason! STOP IT!!!!"

"…a new plastic fire truck and fire house!" he stopped there, and he turned to his younger brother with a large maniacal grin on his face.

For the last few weeks Chris had been going on and on about wanting to be a firefighter when he grew up, so he could help people in need just like his Daddy, and this gift was one he'd been pining away for for just as long. His whole body shook with anger as the surprise had been spoiled for him, and his face turned a deep shade of crimson...

8888

Meanwhile footsteps followed by a young woman's voice were heard at the back door.

"Merry Christmas!!!"

"Merry Christmas Dear! How was the flight over?" Martha called back, and the boys in the living room heard their grandmother walk across the tiled floor of the kitchen to give their mother a hug.

"Hold that thought one minute Martha…this one's doing a tarantella on my bladder…" and they heard Lois rush in the opposite direction to the bathroom in the hall.

"She's had to go since we hit Missouri," their Dad's voice chimed in as he entered the kitchen.

8888

Chris' face was now maroon in color and his cheeks were wet. Jason hadn't realized how far he'd pushed his younger brother; it didn't look like Chris had drawn a breath in several minutes, and then he saw an unmistakable glint in his eye…

"**I TOLD YOU TO STOP!!!!!!!**"

"**HELP!**" Jason screamed as he dashed off the couch to turn Christopher's head to the empty fireplace. It was not a moment too soon, for the anger the little boy felt toward his older brother came spewing out his eyes in the form of heat vision, a power he'd never exhibited before. As he turned his brother's head, one of the red felt stockings that had been hanging empty over the fireplace caught fire, and both boys could hear their hearts beating in their ears they were so terrified. Shelby yelped in surprise and quickly fled the room. The heat from Christopher's eyes was so intense that he couldn't close them and he was so scared he started to hyperventilate. Jason's clammy hands held fast on either side of his brother's head, preventing him from causing further damage to the living room, and he desperately tried to muster the strength to blow the sock fire out before it too had a chance to spread.

Clark, still dressed as Superman, was by the boys' side in less than a second. With wide blue eyes full of alarm he took in the scene, and placed a giant hand over his son's face. Martha stood in the doorway, wearing the same look of shock and surprise that Christopher had had on a few moments before. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, her hands fluttering to her cheeks, panic rooting her to the spot.

"What?! What's going…!?" Lois turned the corner, saw the commotion, and hurried over to the fireplace to throw the ruined stocking into the fireplace where it wouldn't do any further damage. Clark scooped up his son, one hand still covering the smoldering eyes, and bolted out into the snow; the family rushed to the window and saw the superhero sitting in the middle of a field some distance away from the house, cradling the boy in his arms and gently placing snow on his eyes.

Lois turned her back on the window, facing the other two people in the room. "What happened?!?" she asked exasperatedly, crossing her arms over her large belly. Her eyes flitted from one Kent to the other, waiting for an explanation.

Martha was the first to recover her voice. "Lois, Honey, I just don't know. One minute we're sitting here watching a movie, then I get up to go take care of dinner and the next thing I know there's screaming and a fire roaring in the living room!" Having raised Clark, Martha thought she was ready for almost anything, but the scene that just transpired had taken her completely by surprise.

Lois turned to her eldest son. "Jason...!"

The boy's blue eyes, so like his father's, went wide with guilt, and a loud 'GULP!' could be heard emanating from his throat. Clark reappeared in the room, a flash of red and blue, one hand still shielding the eyes of the little boy in his arms.

"Mom, would you mind getting a cold cloth for Chris' eyes?" he asked. He then turned his attention to his wife, "Lois, he's been asking for you. He's calmed down a bit, so there shouldn't be any flare-ups, but I think the cold compress will help." Lois maneuvered her way over to the sofa as he spoke, and Clark laid their son down across her lap, careful not to jostle her pregnant stomach.

"There there Baby, it's ok….it's ok…" she kept repeating as she stroked Chris' brown hair soothingly. She knew the boy's eyes were squeezed tight of his own accord, but she could feel the hot tears pouring out of them and down her shoulder.

"I…didn't…mean to…Mommy! I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he gasped in-between sobs.

"I know you didn't Baby, it was an accident! It's ok, Mommy's here…Mommy's here…"

Clark had by this time spun out of his suit and into a pair of jeans and a dark sweater; he placed his glasses on and looked from Lois and Christopher over to Jason standing guiltily by the window.

"Son," he said, more authoritatively than Jason had ever heard him speak before, "Go get your jacket and boots. We're going for a little walk." Jason hung his head in shame and rushed past his grandmother on his way to retrieve the items. He dreaded what was coming next.

Martha placed the cold compress on the boys face and kissed his forehead before returning him to his spot on his Mother's shoulder. She turned in time to see Clark pick his way to the back door. Every muscle in his body was taut and she knew he was extremely angry about whatever had transpired. With great care he took his Father's old red flannel winter jacket, which she kept by the back door out of habit, and slipped it over his shoulders before stepping out into the twilight. Jason, head still hung low, followed after him.

They walked away from the house and toward the snowy fields for ten minutes in absolute silence. Jason struggled to keep up with his Father's long strides, and he kept looking up at his face to try and gauge how mad he was. It only took one or two looks for the boy to see that his Dad had the chiseled, stony look normally reserved for career criminals etched on his face. He looked back at his feet and gulped again.

"Christopher was extremely upset," Clark said, addressing his son while continuing to stare straight ahead, "and terrified. Frankly, so was I. I thought his heat vision just appeared out of the blue, but he kept talking, incoherently, out in the field. He said something about you, x-ray vision and presents," he stopped walking and looked down at the boy beside him. "I may not have been in the room when everything went down, but I have a pretty good idea of what happened." They resumed their walk.

"Dad, I…"

Clark held up a hand and Jason stopped his speech cold.

"I know you're frustrated about not being able to fly, but that's no excuse for what you did. You're still a young boy, and you shouldn't be pushing for something that…"

"…will come if and when it comes, I know Dad…" he said somewhat flippantly.

"ENOUGH!" Clark snapped, then took a moment to re-compose himself. "Please, let me finish. Jason, you're the eldest, and as such you have more responsibilities. I think your Mother and I have been treating you as if you were older than you actually are, and I see our mistake now. It won't happen again, let me assure you. But do you realize just how irresponsible your actions were this afternoon? What if we hadn't been there to help him? He could have burned the house down!" he exclaimed, stopping again to turn and face his son.

"I know, I know, and I'm really sorry."

"Good, and you should be sorry, because you need to understand that there are consequences to your actions," he said, picking up his feet and going forward once again. "I know you didn't mean to trigger Christopher's heat vision, nor did you expect to, but you were hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him and you got one," he paused in his speech briefly before going on. "What you did this afternoon also scares me."

Now it was Jason's turn to stop in his tracks. _I scared my Dad?_ he thought to himself. _But Dad's not afraid of anything!_

"You're wrong Jason," his father called out from a few feet in front of him, as if he had been reading his son's thoughts. "I may have skin of steel but I'm afraid of a few things. My number one fear is of anything bad happening to you, your Mom, Christopher or the baby. Another fear I have is what you will do with your powers as you get older." Clark stopped speaking again, unsure of how to proceed and make his son understand the gravitas of the situation. "Now Son I want you to think for a moment; besides you and your brother, do you know of anyone else like me?"

Jason answered without missing a beat, "No, because you're the Last Son of Krypton."

Clark couldn't help but let out a small grin. "Correction, I _was_ the Last Son of Krypton; now there's you, your brother, and the baby to help carry on the legacy—but we won't be alerting the media to _that_ little tid-bit anytime soon," he said, winking at his boy. "It wasn't always like that though. You've heard your Mother and me talk about General Zod before, right?"

Jason nodded, wondering what this had to do with him tormenting his brother earlier.

"Zod, Non and Ursa were also from Krypton. They were imprisoned in the Phantom Zone for crimes against Kryptonians shortly before the planet's destruction. It was because of their imprisonment that they escaped unharmed, but they eventually managed to break free when they were near Earth.

"When they escaped the Phantom Zone they came here and discovered they had powers beyond those of mortal man, the very same powers that you and I possess, and they wanted to use their powers for world domination. Luckily I was able to stop them and protect the people."

The boy looked up at his Dad, his face scrunched up in confusion. "What does 'world domination' mean?"

"It means that they wanted to be the President of everyone and everything on Earth. And they almost got away with it too."

This was a part of the story Jason had never heard before, and his jaw dropped as he learned of his father's near-defeat. They came upon some large stones on the edge of the woods that skirted the field they were walking along and sat down.

"I want you to think about something else too. I landed on Earth as a baby, was raised by your Grandma and Grandpa, and yet I had the same powers as Zod, Non and Ursa long before they showed up. I could have ruled the world too if I wanted; there was no one stronger or faster to stop me. So why didn't I make such an attempt similar to the one General Zod made?"

Jason hazarded a guess. "Because that's not how Grandma and Grandpa raised you?"

Clark's blue eyes twinkled at their mirror image in his son's face. "That's right. I was born on another planet but raised entirely as a human. And I was raised by good people, people who taught me about love and compassion, not just for members of the family but for everyone else as well. They also helped me master my gifts, and they showed me how to use them to help the greater good. That's why I became Superman Son, so that I could help my fellow man in times of need. So you see, my becoming Superman is a direct consequence of your Grandma and Grandpa's actions.

"Jason, you may be half-Kryptonian, but you, like me, are being raised as a human. That means that you're subject to good and evil just like anyone else, and just like I was when I was your age. Tonight you used your gifts to pick on your brother, who, up until now, hadn't displayed any powers of his own. You knew what you were doing was wrong and yet you did it anyway, partly out of frustration, partly out of boredom, but mostly just because you could. You're ten years old and we don't know the full extent of your powers, but it scares me that if you're using your gifts now to do something bad to someone so innocent, then you might decide to do more bad things to less fortunate people when you're older. That's not how your Mother and I want to raise you, Jason, you or your siblings."

"But I don't want to be like General Zod!" the boy exclaimed in terror. He didn't know just then if he wanted to be a new Superman when he grew up either, but he knew for sure that he didn't want to become his evil counterpart.

His father let out a quick laugh. "That's good, because I don't want you to be like General Zod either!" he said, before putting his arm around his son's shoulder and pulling him toward him to give him a...

"DAD NO! Not the noogie!!!! Not the noogie!!!"

"Hey, you didn't think you were going to get off scot-free there, did you Buddy?"

"Argh!" he said, trying to fend off his father. He finally managed to extricate himself from his grip. "No, I mean, I guess not."

"Alright then. Now for future reference, you need to remember that there are consequences to your actions, ok Kiddo? And will you promise not to use your powers to do bad things ever again—and I mean _really bad_ things?" he asked, looking at his son in earnest.

"Yes Dad."

"Good, because we have to hurry, I hear your Grandma on the back porch calling us in for dinner," Clark stood up and started walking toward the house.

"Um, Dad?" Jason asked sheepishly from the rock where he still sat.

"Yes Son?"

"Can we fly back?"

He walked back over to his boy. "I thought you didn't like 'being held like a baby anymore'."

"I don't, so I was thinking...maybe I could ride on your back and hold onto your neck?"

Clark looked from his son, to the house, and back to his son. The smells of a wonderful turkey dinner reached his nose and his mouth began to water. _Flying would be faster…and that turkey does smell awfully good…_

"Ok, we'll do it, but you better hold on tight. And we're sticking low to the ground in case you slip off, alright?"

"Yes Sir!"

"Then hop on," and he bent down so Jason could scramble onto his back.

The journey home took less than a minute, and both boys walked in the back door with a red glow on their cheeks and grins on their faces. Martha and Lois were darting about the kitchen while Christopher sat at the half-set dining room table. Lois shot Clark a look as Jason hung up his coat and slipped off his boots.

"We had a talk Honey, it's fine now."

She looked from her husband to her son and back to her husband. "If you say so…Jason, I want you to wash up, then go apologize to your brother. And don't think there won't be some serious consequences once we get back home young man."

"Yes Mom," he replied as he darted down the hall to the bathroom. When he got back to the dining room the table was nearly set, and his parents were preoccupied in the kitchen helping their grandmother.

"Christopher?" he called out softly, sidling up to his brother. The boy turned his head away out of spite. "Chris," Jason said again, this time a little more loudly. He still wouldn't budge. Jason sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? I acted like a big jerk and I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry if I ruined Christmas because I was mean, _ok_?" he spit out as quickly as he could, then threw his arms around his brother in a hug. The little boy was stiff in his arms but slowly relaxed and turned his head to face him.

Chris took in a deep breath as his brother let go of him. "It's ok," he said, before wagging his finger and quickly adding "But don't do it again! I _LIKE _getting surprises!"

"I won't, I swear!" Jason replied, holding his arms up in surrender. This made Chris chuckle.

He sat down beside his brother at the dining room table. "Hey Jason, wanna see somethin' neat?!" Christopher asked excitedly. His elder brother watched as the look of extreme concentration came over his face and a glint of red flashed in his eyes…

"NO!" screamed Martha, Clark, Lois and Jason simultaneously. The adults entered the room just in time to see the little boy send a large flame shooting out of his eyes and onto the wick of one of the candles sitting in the center of the table.

"What?" asked Christopher innocently.

"Not bad…" Clark said, half to himself. Lois and Martha looked at him with less-than-amused expressions on their faces.

"That's it, no more heat vision in the house," Martha declared until Clark gave her a look over his glasses. "Unless, of course, you're over the age of 25." She placed the turkey down near her son's seat at the head of the table as Clark finished lighting the other candle with his own heat vision. Lois followed behind her husband carrying a bowl of mashed potatoes which she placed beside her setting.

"Great; I'm raising a future doctor with his own internal x-ray machine and a future firefighter who is turning into a pyromaniac! And who knows what this little one'll be?" she said, gesturing to her stomach as Clark helped her into a chair.

"Mommy, what's a py…pyr…pyro…?" Chris started to ask. Jason giggled.

"Never you mind Son, never you mind," Clark interrupted, pulling the turkey toward him in order to carve it.

* * *

**Christmas Eve, 2012**. Superman made three separate trips to the Kent Farm that afternoon; the first was to drop off several suitcases, the second was to drop off two young boys, and the third was to drop off a young woman wearing a front facing baby sling that contained a ten month old child. When the last of these trips had been made Superman disappeared through the back door of the old farm house and Clark Kent re-appeared in his mother's kitchen.

"Merry Christmas Mom!" he said, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. She returned the kiss before continuing to coo at baby Lara whom Lois transferred into her arms immediately upon arrival.

"Oh Son she's gotten so big since I saw her last! Haven't you? Haven't you gotten big? Oh I could just eat you up, yes I could…" all three of the Kent boys rolled their eyes as Martha switched to baby talk. The younger ones meandered toward the living room while Lois stayed in the kitchen to talk with her mother-in-law a while longer.

"And no eavesdropping in on this conversation Clark Kent! I mean it! This is a Mother-to-Mother chat only!"

"Yes Ma'am," he replied as he bent down to lovingly kiss his wife before following the boys out of the room.

Jason and Christopher brought out the game "Memory" while Clark picked up an old issue of the "Smallville Tribune" to catch up on local news. They'd been sitting there like that for fifteen minutes when Chris spoke up.

"Hey Jace!"

"Yeah?"

The younger boy looked at his father to make sure he was still distracted. "What did Grandma get Lara for Christmas?"

"You can't be serious?! Don't you remember what happened _last year_?" Jason asked exasperatedly.

"Yeah, but Lara's only a baby and she doesn't know what a surprise is so it doesn't matter. Come on, just a _little_ peek…" he said, looking longingly over at the pile of presents under the tree.

Jason thought for a moment, then looked from side to side to make sure he wouldn't get caught. Clark absentmindedly flipped a page of the paper and appeared to have resumed reading. The boy squinted his eyes and looked at a large square present near the bottom of the pile, one that had Lara's name on it. He couldn't see anything beyond the wrapping paper. Jason shook his head, thinking there was something wrong with his x-ray vision. He tried another package with Lara's name on it; same effect. Then he tried a gift with his father's name on it; there was still nothing beyond the wrapping paper.

"DAD!" he screamed.

Clark jumped up a foot out of his chair. He _had_ been eavesdropping in on his Mother and Lois when his son's cries broke him out of his concentration.

"Jason, what is it!? Are you alright? What's the matter?" he fired off the questions as he strode across the room to where the boys were sitting. Martha and Lois looked in from the doorway, with baby Lara sitting on Lois' hip. All three looked worried.

"My…my x-ray vision! It's g-gone!!!"

Clark looked perplexed; his powers only shorted out whenever Kryptonite was nearby. He knew his Mother kept a small piece in a lead-lined box somewhere around the house in the event of an emergency, but he hadn't detected it's presence in the twenty minutes that they'd been there, nor did he know what else could have caused his son's unique and sudden 'vision' loss.

"Stand up, look down the hall, through the front door, and tell me what you see," he commanded. Jason did as he was told; he stated how many posts were supporting the front porch, said that Shelby was walking around to the back entrance and the old doggie door, told his Dad where the rocking chairs were located…he even disclosed which way the wind vane on top of the barn was pointing.

"Well Son, it doesn't look to me like you've lost your x-ray vision," he said, letting loose a sigh of relief. "So what made you think that you had?" Jason blushed in embarrassment and looked up at his Father. He pointed to the pile of presents sitting under the tree.

Martha opened her mouth to say something but Lois spoke first. "Jason!!!! Did you learn _nothing_ from last Christmas? Honestly!" Clark squinted intently at the packages from over the rim of his glasses, then transferred his gaze to the brick fireplace before looking back to the packages again.

"Mom?" he asked quizzically, looking to her for some clarification.

"I was about to explain everything, but…well here, let me show you," she said as she strode over to the hall closet. Her back to the family, she put an object in a container, then turned around. Clark understood immediately what was going on as Martha asked, "Jason, can you tell me what's in here?"

He squinted in concentration but shook his head no.

His Grandma flipped open the latch and pulled out an old baseball she used to play fetch with Shelby. Then she tilted it down for everyone to see.

"It's made of lead…" Lois said as the realization dawned on her. Lara extended a chubby fist for the dull metallic object and her mother pushed it back.

"But where did you…?" Clark started to ask. He and his sons stood back with mouths agape, impressed by Martha's ingenuity.

"…get so many?" she finished for him. She handed the box in her hands over to him. "From Hank Jannsen. Do you remember him Clark? He lived a couple farms over East of here. Anyhow, he was about to pass papers on his place back in September and just before he did he had a yard sale; said he was trying to get rid of some odds and ends, things that the new owners had no use for and stuff he said he had no use for in Florida where he was moving to. I stopped by to see what there might be and I found all these boxes on a table. I thought they were lead, but I decided to double check.

"'Yep, all lead,' he told me, 'Don't know why I kept holding onto them for so long, they've just been sitting in my cellar all these years collectin' dust. Guess I figured I'd find a use for them someday or other, y'know, lead boxes coming in handy and all. If you're interested Martha, I could give you a real deal…' And after last year's 'episode' I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry, so for $15 I got all of these…" she said, pointing to the boxes wrapped under the tree, "…and these…" stepping aside and indicating half a closet full, "…and several larger ones inside the barn." She stopped to gauge the family's reaction. "What do you think?"

Clark placed the box his mother had given him into the boys' waiting hands and they proceeded to inspect it closely. Chris held a hand underneath the bottom of it and Jason couldn't make out anything until he saw his brother's wrist peek out from one side.

"I think," Clark said, slowly and deliberately, with eyes still on the box, "That barring any unforeseen gifts of Kryptonite-laced toys that you are one of the smartest women alive." And he leaned over to give her a good long hug as all three adults laughed.

"Oh man!" Jason said scornfully under his breath.

Chris looked up at him quizzically. "What?"

"We are _sooo_ busted!"

**THE END—Happy Holidays Everyone! Don't forget to review!  
**


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